


Let Hell Begin

by Miss_L



Category: Deadpool (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Bodyswap, F/M, M/M, Tony gets his just deserts (ish), Wade is kinda happy for once, stuff and shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-11 05:03:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2054661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_L/pseuds/Miss_L
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a terrible accident (as there always is), and two members of the Marvel universe find themselves stuck in each other's body. Ta-daa!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rain1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rain1975/gifts).



> ... Who is absolutely fantastic and should get all the love she deserves :D

[Wakey wakey, asshole.]  
 _{Time to rise and shine, shitface.}_

Tony groaned. His head was pounding and someone was shouting loudly. _Very_ loudly. Straight in his ear, if not in his brain. He groaned again and peeled his eyes open, then slammed them shut when the bright light hit his retinas. 

“Pepper,” he croaked hoarsely.

Surely, she knew not to open the blinds when he was hung over? No answer came, not even when Tony had actually found his voice. Which still came out somehow distorted. Just when he started contemplating getting a new PA-slash-girlfriend, he heard footsteps. 

“Pepper?”

“Try again,” came the mocking answer.

Stark’s eyes flew open. He knew that voice. He had heard it on recordings. He squinted against the sunlight until a shadow fell over his eyes and he could finally _see._ Himself. Smirking down at him in the least attractive way possible – and he knew his own expressions well.

“Did I accidentally clone myself?”

It sounded- Plausible. Although he’s never been _that_ drunk.

“Nope,” Tony2 said.

[Of course not, you idiot.]  
 _{How would two of you be any good? One is horrible enough.}_

“Who’s that?”

Tony looked around himself wildly, then checked his ears for microphones and shook his head. His companion’s expression turned quizzical and he cocked his head.

“You got the voices, too? Awesome!” The childlike glee on the face of his- whatever made Stark wince.

“What’s going on?” he managed, pounding behind his eyeballs intensifying with the second. His head was _loud_ , like static on a TV with the volume up all the way. He finally looked around. He was lying on the ground in some abandoned ware-house. With some difficulty, he finally got up – the other Tony offered no help whatsoever, nor an answer to the question. His body felt weird. His knees were shaky, but that wasn't the main problem. The main problem was that he was suddenly tall. Like, _tall._ And ridiculously muscled, at least for him. Then he looked down.

 _No!!!_  
[Oh yesss…]  
 _{Now your outside matches your inside. Welcome to Hell, freak.}_

Tony’s mind was reeling even before he realized the infernal shouting was in his head. He was looking at a body that was not his own, but still painfully familiar. Patches of diseased skin peeked through torn and bloodied red-and-black spandex. A light, itchy thrumming over his entire body and the actual feeling of cells dying off and being replaced by new ones confirmed what he tried so hard not to accept. He was fucked. 

Stark looked back up at the smirking man inhabiting his own precious body, and for the first time in his life, he wanted to tear that handsome face off. 


	2. Chapter 2

Tony had decided that they were to stay at the Avengers Tower until they had this… Thing cleared up. Well, until _he_ had this thing cleared up. After spending half a day together, Stark could guess that Wade would be no help whatsoever. All the man did was smirk and survey himself in every reflecting surface.

[Despite his less-than-pleasant personality, he deserves to have your face.]  
 _{More than you do, anyway.}_  
[Perhaps even your girl along with it?]  
 _SHUT UP!_

The noise in his head was unbearable, but it wouldn't be the first time Tony had a headache, so he coped. In his own way.

[Yeah, why not drink more?]  
 _{Drink yourself to death. Nobody will miss you.}_  
[Except maybe people who hate you.]  
 _{Yeah, they won’t be able to plant a fist in your face anymore.}_

Half a bottle of Jack Daniel’s later, and blissful sleep finally took over.

\---

Wade woke up early. His surroundings were unfamiliar, but he would know that smell anywhere. Stark’s ridiculously expensive cologne. Which _he_ was doused in. Memory slowly came back as he raised a flawless hand to shield his eyes.

_Right! Bodyswap!_

It sure was nice to have only one stream of consciousness, instead of three. Wilson got up slowly and went into the bathroom. _Nice._ He flinched when he saw the mirror – an old habit – but the face staring back at him was still Stark’s handsome mug. He brushed his teeth, then washed his face. Then decided to have a shower while he was at it. It felt pervy to be touching another male body in a non-unaliving sort of way, but considering he was _in_ that body _(heh),_ quite inevitable. And it was nice and smooth, so why the hell not? Now that Wade could actually feel things on his skin that were not his skin burning, he relished the feeling of hot water and lather. Then a soft towel and pretentiously expensive clothes.

The house seemed deserted, so Wade found the kitchen and made himself a huge breakfast, ate it, made more, ate that, then dumped the dishes in the sink and walked downstairs. He knew where the lab was, and since entry was now voice-activated…

“Tony Stark.”

 _Click._

The lab was impressive. And Wade had seen the inside of many. From up close. He could only marvel at the shiny equipment, keeping unpleasant memories at bay as he surveyed his surroundings. The door opened again and he spun around. A lovely woman in a business suit and high heels came in, seemingly upset, and walked right up to him.

“Tony, how many times-”

She stopped dead in her tracks the moment their eyes met and gasped.

“You are not Tony. Who are you?”

Her face expressed the urge to either call security or beat him to death with a file folder. Wade raised his arms. “Lady-”

Before he could begin an explanation, a tall figure appeared in the door opening.

“Pepper,” Wade Wilson’s voice called. The woman turned around.

“Tony?”

Wade was impressed: not only had “Pepper” not flinched, looking at Deadpool’s unmasked face, she even walked towards Stark and put her hand on the diseased cheek. A tightening in his chest told Wade that he might be falling in love, but the gentleness of her touch proved the futility of such sentiment.

“What happened?” she asked softly, wrath forgotten.

“It’s complicated,” Tony sighed. “We should all talk.”


	3. Chapter 3

Six coffees, one broken mug (Tony wasn't yet used to the sharp pain when a new scar started forming) and a very garbled and often interrupted by a certain merc explanation later, Pepper was up to date. Her gaze towards Tony didn't change, although when she looked at Wade, her expression was clearly disapproving. He gave up on explaining that none of this had been his fault. _No, really._ For once, he hadn’t actually fucked shit up. 

So far, the story went thus. The Avengers had been fighting some baddies, nothing major, but one of them turned out to be a powerful magician. Yep. Complete with mumbled incantations and rays of light shooting from his hands. As if his tacky costume wasn't ridiculous enough (purple, yellow and green? Colourblind much??). When Deadpool showed up on the scene to grab some Parker-ass _(hey, he hadn’t seen his baby boy for a whole week!),_ Monsieur Fantôme had just been driven into a corner. He disappeared with a “poof”, but the poof had been powerful enough to level two buildings. Apparently, Wade and Tony had been caught in the cross-fire – hopefully, they were the only ones.

“Sir, Mr. Parker has just arrived. Should I let him in?”

“Yes,” Tony answered out of habit, JARVIS luckily clever enough to recognise his Master’s voice even when coming from another man’s throat.

“Very well, Sir.”

Wade’s face had lit up at the mention of Peter, but now he seemed hesitant and fidgety. By the time the elevator reached the penthouse (no, this is not a continuity mistake, dear reader. Of _course_ they went upstairs to have a chat! Do I have to spell everything out?? - _Indignant and super-underpaid writer),_ Wilson was shaking all over, white as a sheet. He would have ran away were it not for Stark’s hand on his arm.

Peter walked into the room, far-away look on his face telling everyone present that he was probably solving some problem in his head. His goofy smile seemed to calm Wade down, although he still made no move to greet his boyfriend. It took a while for Parker to tune into the mood and his eyes finally focused on the company. Confusion replaced curiosity and he frowned. His eyes darted between the two men, completely ignoring Pepper. Peter stepped closer, uncertainty on his features dissipating as he smiled and slung his arms around Tony Stark’s flawless neck. Rigid shoulders relaxed under loving touch and Wade hugged his baby boy back.

Tony smirked.

[At least it’s real love.]  
 _And if Peter can love a monster…  
{Yeah, but _he’s_ mostly horrid on the outside.}_  
 _Do you_ always _have to ruin the mood?_  
 ** _[Yes.]_**


	4. Chapter 4

He was falling. They were _all_ falling. Pepper, Rogers, Fury, even JARVIS, who had somehow turned human. Stark could do nothing, say nothing, to help. He watched his companions’ terrified expressions, no doubt matching his own, and could not even shout out in agony. Every time he reached for Pepper, sweet sweet Pepper, she seemed to fall faster, away from him. Always out of reach. Never able to help, save, protect…

Tony woke up violently, a familiar small hand already outstretched towards his face in a soothing motion. But he couldn’t. He was a monster, and he didn't deserve- He jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, only just reaching the toilet in time to deposit his stomach-contents inside. Which smelled suspiciously like Jack Daniels and shawarma. Still hugging the porcelain bowl, he dissolved into tears.

\---

“It’s been two weeks,” Peter chided softly. “He’s not handling this well.”

“He’ll be fine,” Wade retorted, digging into his third hamburger. He was starting to develop a bit of a tummy, which was not very attractive, but hey, at least the rest of him was hot, right?

Parker stroked his head absent-mindedly, then retrieved his hand and got up from the couch. “I still think you should try some of your contacts. They’re bound to know-”

“Pete!” That definitely came out as an unmanly whine. “Come on, do you really think they’ll believe I'm me?”

“Take Tony with you? Or just call them.”

“And say what? That my voice broke?”

The sad expression on Peter’s face was almost unbearable. Wade decided to change the subject.

“Hey,” he purred, taking his boyfriend’s hand in his, “How about you and I-?” 

The suggestive eyebrow-wiggle did its job, but Peter looked unconvinced.

“I can’t…”

Wilson looked down at himself, puzzled, then back up at his baby boy’s guilty face.

“It’s still me in here, you know.”

“Yes,” Peter sighed and looked away. “But not out there.”

_Huh. How bizarre, never thought anyone would be crazy enough to go for my looks…_

_…_

Wade realised he was waiting for some witty retort from the boxes. Suddenly, the hamburger in his hand lost its appeal.

\---

“Weasel, hello, old bud. How’s it hangin’?”

“… Who is this?”

“Wade. Remember your old friend Wade?”

The laughter on the other side of the line was relieved.

“Yeah, right, pull the other one. Who is this really?”

Wilson pinched his nose and took a deep breath. This was to be expected, but he was used to more… Anxious reverence from Weasel. Although calm sure as hell suited the little tick.

“Weasel, I have no time to explain, but if you don’t do as I ask, I’ll come down there and break your knees using pliers.”

“Wade? Is-is this really you?” The nervous stammer had returned, but somehow it didn't delight Deadpool as much as it should.

_That’s probably because I'm an asshole, and shouldn't treat my friends like garbage.  
…  
Yes, that’s it._

“Yeah. Look, bub, I need a solid.”

Three quarters of an hour later, Deadpool came down to the lab with an armful of papers and his smartphone at the ready.

“I think we've found him.”


	5. Chapter 5

Wade hasn't been sure from the start that he wants to be back in his horrific body and despicable mind, but as the date with the voodoo witch doctor approaches, he loses his resolve completely. He doesn't run away, because that would be… Unmanly. No, he just… Displaces himself. Pretty far away. Accidentally taking all his possessions and weapons with him. And money. But he isn't running. Nope. Just taking a little holiday. Until further notice.

It’s a nice, guilting-boxes-free holiday, too, until the merc is drugged, snatched and locked into a cellar. It takes him a while to wake up, an even longer while to adjust his eyes to the dim lighting. Three guards - trained assassins, but nowhere near his own paygrade. _Good._ He is certain this will be a piece of cake until the lights come on and a butcher _(not an actual butcher, of course, but the “man for the job”)_ comes at him with a knife. The cut feels familiar – not his first, and definitely not his last. What is unfamiliar, however, is the prolonged trickle of blood down his chest. With a pang of anxiety, Wade realises he is no longer invincible – or immortal. And while he has been trying to die forever, now, he actually has things to live for. Well, one thing. A very particular arachnid thing. His eyes narrow and the butcher laughs. He won’t laugh for long. 

Wade cuts the ropes with the small knife he has in his sleeve, but before he can enact his revenge, a new player enters the room. The man is clearly sophisticated and rich. His golden Rolex is real, and his shoes are Italian. He seems to know Wade – or, rather, Stark – but Wilson can’t remember seeing his face before. Anyway, _rolling with the punches,_ as per usual. Half an hour of talking later (Wade blocks most of it out), and all he learned is that one of Tony’s old business partners feels cheated and wants revenge. _Boo-hoo, Nancy._ Luckily, the talking has stopped and everybody is lulled, so it takes Wade less effort to knock everybody out and kill the rich guy. _Stark can thank me later._

He leaves the basement and finds his way back to the motel he’s been staying for the past few nights, but something is off. A nagging in his chest, and it’s not indigestion. His head is too empty, too quiet. It’s disconcerting. And it would seem being Tony Stark is not all hoots and parades – he’s managed to duck all shareholders' meetings in the past weeks, but the sheer amount of paperwork he’s seen Pepper dealing with is horrifying. Plus, Tony Stark’s nemeses are mind-numbingly dull. Wade packs his things without thinking and pays for his room. He hot-wires a car, then sits in it for a bit, contemplating what has to happen next. 

\---

Tony has officially given up. He sits in his room, sulking and drinking himself into another stupor. Even Peter hasn't been able to locate Wade, and he knows the merc’s habits like nobody else. A door slams downstairs and Stark takes another swig of vodka. It’s 2 pm, but who gives a shit? It’s Saturday. Maybe. Rapid footsteps ascend the stairs - _I thought we had an elevator_ \- and Wade Wilson bursts through the door. Tony barely acknowledges the man who ruined his life. 

“Come on!” the merc shouts, pulling Stark to his feet and throwing a button-up over his bare torso. “We’re gonna be late for the hoodoo!”

“What do you care?” Tony mumbles, brain too alcohol-soaked to understand what’s going on.

Wade pauses in his ministrations, then shakes the man inside his body hard and slaps him upside the head for good measure. He waits for a minute for Tony’s liver- and braincells to restore themselves, then asks, “You want your body back, yeah?”

Stark nods, not used to being manhandled, but too stunned to protest.

“Good,” Deadpool grins. “Let’s go.”

\---

“How fucking much have you been eating and what the HELL happened to my chest?”

The rage and surprise on Tony’s face are totally worth it, Wade thinks as he gets accustomed to the thrumming of his old skin.

[Oh no, _he’s_ back…]  
 _{If I had a face, I would puke.}_  
 _If you guys had faces, I would be kissing them right now!_  
 ** _[Ew!!!]_**

\---

“It’s good to have you back, Sir,” JARVIS informs Tony as he enters the laboratory.

“It’s good to be back, JARVIS,” Tony retorts, relishing the sound of his own voice coming from his own throat.

He clicks a new folder in his virtual interface.

“What shall we name it, Sir?”

“Oh, what the hell… Project X/pain relief. Eventually “cure”. How does that sound?”

“That is very kind of you, Sir.”

“Shut up, JARVIS. You tell anyone about it, I’ll cut out your vocal circuits and replace them with a bad rendition of “Jingle Bells”.”

“Very well, Sir.”

“Let us begin, then.” The smirk on Tony’s face feels familiar once again.


End file.
